


Didn’t know where we were running to, but don’t look back

by phanjessmagoria



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Coming Untouched, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 14:06:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7108237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phanjessmagoria/pseuds/phanjessmagoria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The only sound was Ashton’s rhythmic breathing. When he was just falling asleep, it drowned out even Calum’s breath, and the ticking of the old-fashioned clock hung on the wall. Calum actually had no idea when the last time he’d ever seen one of those was, much less in a hotel. It was fancy: wooden and ornate, the hands fashioned out of gold or some lesser, but still gold-colored, metal, ticking away the seconds and minutes and hours since they’d laid down.</p><p>It hadn’t actually been hours since they’d laid down, though—that was just the thing. It had been minutes, long enough for Ashton to begin to drift off, and long enough for Calum’s mind to begin to feel exponentially bored.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Didn’t know where we were running to, but don’t look back

The room was bathed in black, shadows upon shadows; the only visible light peeking in from beneath the door to the hallway. Someone, probably housekeeping or a late-night room service deliveryperson, walked by, their feet casting shadows and partially blocking out the light for a moment.

The only sound was Ashton’s rhythmic breathing. When he was just falling asleep, it drowned out even Calum’s breath, and the ticking of the old-fashioned clock hung on the wall. Calum actually had no idea when the last time he’d ever seen one of those was, much less in a hotel. It was fancy: wooden and ornate, the hands fashioned out of gold or some lesser, but still gold-colored, metal, ticking away the seconds and minutes and hours since they’d laid down.

It hadn’t actually been hours since they’d laid down, though—that was just the thing. It had been minutes, long enough for Ashton to begin to drift off, and long enough for Calum’s mind to begin to feel exponentially bored.

He tried rolling over, pressing his cheek to the cool half of the pillow, fanning his legs out but keeping his arms pressed close to his chest for warmth. He closed his eyes—squeezed them shut, really, trying to trick his mind into thinking he was tired. It lasted for a good fifteen clock ticks before his eyes fluttered open, still perfectly adjusted to the dark. He could make out the bright clock hands against the deep red, cherry wood, even in the pitch darkness of the room.

It read 2:41, with the second hand rounding the 9, meaning it would be 2:42 soon.

He sighed heavily.

Quietly, Calum rolled back over so he was facing the other bed, where Ashton lay, his body completely covered by the white blankets, a pale figure in an otherwise dark space. Calum lifted his head, the covers rustling as he did, the cotton sheets sliding beneath the fluffy comforter making a soft shushing noise.

“You sleeping?” he said, louder than he should have if he wanted to really test the waters. The point was actually just to wake Ashton up.

Ashton didn’t answer, but he shifted a little. Calum heard him clear his throat and take a deep breath.

He tried again.

“You sleeping?” he asked, conversationally, like he hadn’t just woken Ashton up on purpose.

“I would be, if you’d let me,” Ashton said, voice muffled by the blankets piled around him, and probably the pillow too.

“Oh, I thought you were awake,” Calum said, knowing this would get a rise out of Ashton, because he had clearly been asleep.

“Really?” Ashton asked, not moving yet. Calum knew he would, though, if he kept it up. Ashton continued. “What could have possibly given you that idea? Was it how I was lying down in the dark, eyes closed, probably snoring?”

Calum didn’t even need to say anything, that was the beauty of it. Ashton would talk himself back into wakefulness.

“Or maybe how it’s—” Calum saw a light explode from the other side of the room as Ashton checked the time on his phone. Calum even winced a little, so Ashton’s eyes had to be _hurting_ from doing that. Again, he went on. “How it’s 3 in the morning, which is when all normal people are up and about, doing normal awake things like eating breakfast or going to work and _not sleeping_.”

Calum stayed silent as Ashton took a breath. Upstairs, they heard a toilet flush.

“Well, that guy’s awake,” Calum said, unable to resist, and Ashton, despite himself, smirked. He hoped maybe the dimness of the room hid it from Calum.

“What do you want, Calum?” Ashton asked, finally, his tone normal and annoyed attitude gone. He was genuinely asking why Calum wanted him to be up at this hour.

“I can’t sleep,” Calum said, reaching back behind him and beating his pillow with a fist, fluffing it up and then some.

“So you woke me up so I’d be miserable too?”

“No. No, just, I’m bored.”

“Well I’m tired,” Ashton said, but Calum knew he’d won when Ashton pushed himself to sit upright too.

“Did you see those buildings a few blocks away from the venue?” Calum asked, out of nowhere.

Ashton groaned. The speed at which Calum’s sleepless mind worked thoroughly confused and irritated him, mostly because he was all about making sense of things and when Calum was like this, he definitely could not.

“Which buildings?” Ashton asked, not bothering to look over at Calum.

“The old ones. Looked really, like...dilapidated,” Calum said, choosing the word carefully.

“Dilapidated?” Ashton repeated, the sigh in his words clearly audible.

“Yeah. Broken windows, boarded up doors, I know you saw them,” Calum insisted.

“Yeah, ok, I remember,” Ashton said, because he supposed even though he didn’t _remember_ , every city had buildings like that, so he must have seen them, or at least could get away with pretending.

“Let’s go,” Calum said, and Ashton could tell even without looking that Calum was grinning.

“Go? Go where?” Ashton said, half because he didn’t believe Calum would actually want to leave the hotel at this hour, and half because he wanted to be as difficult as possible, since he knew Calum was going to talk him into it anyway. He always did.

“Exploring,” Calum said, as though that was that, and kicked the covers off of himself, sliding out of bed in just his boxer-briefs and a wide grin.

“It’s 3 in the morning,” Ashton argued, shaking his head. “We can’t go out at 3 in the morning.”

“Why not?” Calum said, putting his hands on his hips in an incredible imitation of every primary school teacher Ashton had ever had.

“Uh, because it’s 3 in the morning?” Ashton repeated. “That is the answer to every question you could ask me right now.”

“You never used to be this boring.”

Ashton paused. Long, awkward, dead silent; Ashton said nothing until Calum smirked at him in the darkness.

“I am not boring,” Ashton said, voice steady.

“Then prove it.”

–

“I just want you to know that if we get killed, then I am declaring myself completely exempt from blame, and it will be your fault entirely,” Ashton mumbled to Calum, both of them nodding to the man standing at the front desk, who looked like perhaps two people leaving the hotel at a quarter past 3AM wasn’t unheard of, but was still a bit unusual.

“We’re not going to get killed,” Calum said, fisting his hands into the pockets of his jacket, holding the front closed tighter around his front. It wasn’t _cold_ , but it was a little chilly given the late hour.

“I’ll just keep telling myself that,” Ashton said. “Maybe if I think it hard enough, it’ll come true.”

“Dude, why the fuck would you come if you’re gonna be such a downer?” Calum asked, actually getting a little annoyed that Ashton couldn’t just let go and have fun for a minute.

Ashton didn’t say anything for a moment, and when he did, it wasn’t really even an answer. “Couldn’t let you go alone, could I?”

Calum fell silent, and Ashton zipped up his hoodie, tugging the woolen beanie hat down over his ears. Calum noticed, and suddenly his ears felt rather exposed.

“Can I have that?” he asked, removing one of his hands from his pocket and pointing at the hat.

“You should have brought your own,” Ashton said, but Calum could tell just from his tone he wasn’t serious. His hand was halfway to his head when Calum spoke, anyway.

“You’ve got a hood,” he said, accusatory, and Ashton laughed. He plucked the hat off his head, slipped it onto Calum’s, and then wrapped his arm around him, pulling his hood up with the other.

“I think I’ve got two Hoods, actually,” he said, grinning, and Calum groaned, loudly.

“It’s not too late for you to go back to the hotel, you know,” Calum said, and Ashton laughed, just as loud as Calum had groaned. “I hate you,” he moaned afterward, but he was laughing just a little, too.

The only sound for a few blocks was their breathing, quiet in the still, night air, the sound of traffic closer to the heart of the city, and their feet slapping on the concrete sidewalks. Occasionally, a car or even another person would walk by, and the two of them would squeeze closer together, just in case, because Ashton’s mantra of “we’re not going to get killed” wasn’t actually making him feel any better the further away from the hotel they got.

“Is that it?” Calum asked, stopping on a corner of an intersection that Ashton thought looked familiar.

“Might be,” he said, stepping around the corner, looking for the front of the venue. Sure enough, he spotted it—much further down the street, but sure enough, it was the arena they’d been playing at not six hours earlier. “Yep,” he amended himself, looking back for Calum, who had already crossed the street in the opposite direction.

“Cal,” he stage whispered, not wanting to shout, but wanting Calum to hear him.

“We drove in from this way, right?” Calum was saying, decidedly _not_ stage whispering, and walking up the street.

Ashton hurried to catch up with him, rushing across the road even though the “Don’t Walk” sign was displayed, and hooking his arm with Calum’s once he was beside him again.

Calum looked down at where their arms were linked, then up at Ashton’s face. “What, you scared, mate?” Calum said, snickering softly.

“What? No,” Ashton said, mostly telling the truth. 

“Oh, so you just wanted to make this romantic, instead of adventurous,” he teased, letting Ashton stay close to him.

“Will you shut up?” Ashton said, but made no move to pull his arm from Calum’s.

Calum lifted his free arm, using his hand to mime zipping his lips shut.

Ashton huffed a short laugh, looking away. He wasn’t _frightened_ to be out this late, not really, but he would still have preferred being warm in his hotel bed to being out in the brisk air in the middle of the night.

They walked, arm-in-arm for another few blocks, and Ashton checked his phone for the time when they passed under a streetlight. It was 3:37AM, meaning they’d been away from the hotel for nearly half an hour already, and still nobody had noticed them missing. Not that they would, unless morning came and the two of them were still absent.

But that wasn’t going to happen. _We’re not going to get killed._

“Look,” Calum said, stopping short in the middle of a sidewalk and pointing to a large building. It looked like at one time it may have been an old apartment or office building; it had a large arched doorway dead center in the front, and a ton of windows. The ones on the first three floors were all boarded up, but higher up the windows went through varying degrees of brokenness before the ones nearly all the way at the top were mostly intact. The front of the building was flooded with brightness; streetlights and a large spotlight, probably intended to keep out trespassers (even well-meaning urban explorers), were fixed on the front, the red bricks washed out.

“And you want to go in there?” Ashton asked, looking up at the building like it posed some sort of threat to him personally.

“You don’t?” Calum asked, looking around them, over his shoulder.

“I feel like there’s really no right answer to that question,” Ashton said, speaking even as Calum pulled him forward, toward the building. The sidewalk, which had been relatively smooth and unscarred up until this area, now was scattered with litter, broken glass, and sand, like streetsweepers couldn’t be bothered to come down this far.

The front door was, as Ashton expected, chained and locked. Calum tugged on the padlock like it would break, but the chain just jangled and held fast.

Before Ashton could even open his mouth to suggest going back, Calum looked over to the side, studying the face of the building.

“There must be another way in,” he said, taking off at a light jog along the front, his shoes scuffing the sidewalk as he moved.

Ashton quickly followed him, not wanting to let Calum get too far away, for fear of losing him if he made it into the building first. He passed window after window in the seemingly endless row, and then he passed one which made him stop and go back to it. Ashton caught up to him, waiting at his side, for Calum to speak or show him what had caught his eye.

“What is it?” Ashton asked after a moment, while Calum leaned in close to the wooden barrier. Ashton looked a bit closer to try and see what Calum was seeing; after a moment, he thought he understood. There was a good centimeter of space between the windowframe and the plywood, along half the left side and the entire bottom. Calum reached out a hesitant hand and pushed on it. It moved.

He turned to look gleefully at Ashton, then pushed on it again. After barely applying any pressure at all, it clattered to the ground inside the building, the lights behind them spilling in and lighting up the empty, but still dirty, room. Calum pulled his phone out of his pocket and turned on the flashlight, aiming it throughout the room. It was completely abandoned.

“Let’s go,” Calum said, pocketing his phone again for a moment as he hoisted himself up over the window, climbing through it, his feet falling with an echoing thud on the other side. Ashton hesitated in joining him, like something dreadful was going to happen now that Calum had broken and entered (or at least trespassed), but when nothing did—obviously—Ashton put his hands on the dusty sill and clambered into the building after Calum.

“Should we put that back?” Calum asked, letting the flashlight beam from his phone wash over the plywood on the floor.

“Will you remember which window it is to get back out?” Ashton asked.

“Yeah,” Calum said, pretty sure he could remember. “Plus, we don’t really want anyone to know we’re in here.”

Ashton shrugged, then took his own phone out of his pocket and lit the flashlight while Calum picked up the wood and put it back over the window. It didn’t seem to want to stay, until Calum angled it just right so that it was propped up on the sill, caught underneath a metal bar at the top, which apparently held it right in place.

“Someone set that up,” Calum said, glancing up at the bar, illuminated by Ashton’s phone light.

“Yeah. Look,” Ashton said, pointing at the plywood itself, where someone had spraypainted in bright blue paint the words _ENJOY YOUR STAY_. “I mean, that’s not creepy at all.”

“Oh my god,” Calum said, rolling his eyes, even though Ashton couldn’t see him. “Someone probably put it there because this is a fun place to explore. You watch too many scary movies.”

Ashton didn’t say anything, but he mumbled something about “One of us needs to be the cautious one” and turned around, letting his phone light the rest of the room. It was a long, narrow room with a few doors off of it, and a desk near the front door that looked like it was once a reception area. Maybe his suspicion that it was an office building was right. He saw a few sets of elevator doors, one of which was propped open, the car very clearly not on this floor, and another door that led to a staircase, judging by the descending zig-zagged line on the front of it.

“Where to first?” Calum asked, his flashlight shining in the opposite direction.

“You lead the way,” Ashton said. Then, to himself, added, “Because I’d take us back to the hotel.” He pressed the home button on his phone, checking the time. It was just getting to be 4 in the morning, which meant only a little bit longer and the sun would probably be coming up. Good.

He only began paying attention again when Calum’s footsteps began echoing around the room, the beam of light bouncing a bit as he walked. Ashton followed him, crossing toward one of the rooms along the back of the main atrium. Cigarette butts covered more of the floor than not, and broken glass, which looked to be from beer bottles, crunched beneath their feet as they made their way forward.

The room was lined with windows as well, also all boarded up, but there was an old, rickety-looking table and chairs pushed into a corner. Calum approached it while Ashton stood by the door, convincing himself that he was playing lookout.

Calum shined the flashlight onto the surface of the table. There was nary a spot on it that had been untouched by what he assumed was probably a knife, with words and small images carved into the wood. Most of it was gibberish, swear words or random objects cut into the surface, but one spot caught his eye.

It was an entire part of the table that had been carved out, clearly done by someone who had some kind of skill in doing so. An entire corner was carved into a delicately designed pattern: what appeared to be a mandala, the wood shorn deeper in some areas to differentiate texture, and he waved his hand at Ashton to get his attention before he realized Ashton couldn’t see unless he was already looking.

“Ash,” Calum said, suddenly, his voice echoing in the space.

Ashton turned, startled, to look at Calum, who was beckoning him over.

“What?” Ashton asked, approaching slowly.

“Look at this,” Calum breathed, turning back to the table, the light moving over the carving, casting shadows where peaks of wood stood upward in the design.

“Holy shit,” Ashton said, leaning closer to look. Calum swiped at the screen of his phone, switching to the camera. Ashton turned his phone light toward the table when Calum’s went out as he took a couple pictures from different angles.

“Make sure you get this part right here,” Ashton said, pointing, and Calum actually looked in interest until he saw that Ashton was just pointing to a cluster of words where each one seemed to be trying to outdo the one above it in terms of offensiveness.

Ignoring him, Calum said, “Should we put something?”

Ashton bit his lip—the thought that they could leave a mark here and that someone else could possibly see it, seemed kind of cool. “Yeah, maybe,” he said, but looked around, flashlight sweeping over the debris on the floor. “But I don’t have a pocketknife or anything.”

“Look for a nail or something,” Calum said. The windows were boarded up, so maybe a nail or two got left behind—it didn’t seem like that much of a stretch.

Ashton took a few steps away from the table, looking, but only sort of; he wasn’t trying as hard as Calum, who was bent at the waist and really studying the ground.

“Ah!” he said, after a couple of minutes searching, the joyful exclamation repeating itself in the empty room, fading quickly. He plucked a bent, rusty nail from beneath a crumpled up cheeseburger wrapper, and stood straight, showing it off to Ashton, who wrinkled his nose.

“Hope you’re up to date on your tetanus shot,” he said, and Calum ignored him, rolling his eyes.

“Quit being so negative. This is fun,” Calum said, angling his phone so the beam of light shone over the whole thing. There wasn’t much room left, but he found a spot about an inch around, and leaned over the table to scratch something there. Ashton waited until he’d straightened up to lean in and look, and smiled at what Calum had carved there: Their old tally mark logo.

“Good?” Calum asked him, holding onto the nail in case Ashton didn’t approve, or wanted to do something himself.

He agreed, though, with a “Good” of his own, and Calum dropped the nail with a small _ping_ onto the floor. He moved past Ashton, back out into the open area of the main room, and looked around, lifting his phone up above his head to try and light up as much of the space surrounding him as he could.

Ashton took a breath and decided to keep his distance from Calum, because maybe if he _acted_ more at ease with the situation, he would actually feel more at ease.

Calum had begun to wander toward the elevators, the upper halves of the metal doors not dulled like the bottoms, which had been scuffed and scratched up. He paused at the one with its doors ajar, the car missing. The shaft was empty and Calum was unable to resist—leaning one hand and the front of his shoulder on the wall beside it, he leaned in to look, angling his phone down, judging the distance below him, and then up. It was so tall that he couldn’t see the top.

“I want you to know that I’m resisting pulling you out of there myself,” Ashton said, and Calum looked round at him, grinning. He moved away from the wall.

“Let’s go upstairs,” he said, and Ashton, in an effort to keep Calum grinning, nodded. He was definitely willing to forgo his better judgement to keep Calum happy. It explained why he was even in this godforsaken building anyway.

In a last-ditch, stupid attempt to be chivalrous, Ashton crossed to the stairwell door and pulled it open, peeking into it with his flashlight. Just more garbage; worn papers, crushed cans, and what looked like a discarded shirt was crumpled into a corner. He turned his phone from the landing up the stairs, feeling Calum’s chin come to rest on his shoulder as they looked. It was just as dark up the stairs, but with Calum right next to him, Ashton couldn’t think of a good excuse not to go up.

“Ready?” he asked, mostly for his own benefit; he could practically feel Calum’s eagerness in the air around them.

“So ready,” he confirmed, giving Ashton a tiny push, one that could easily be explained away and dismissed as nothing.

Hesitantly, Ashton stepped into the stairwell, lowering his phone to illuminate the stairs as they climbed, while Calum angled his upward, toward the second floor. Each footstep echoed as they ascended the steps, and the door swung shut behind them with a loud clang.

“Do you think we should have propped that open?” Ashton asked, pausing so suddenly that Calum’s chest bumped into his back.

“Will you stop worrying?” Calum asked, snaking one arm around Ashton’s middle, squeezing him just a touch and tickling his ribs. “We’re fine. I promise.”

Ashton huffed; it wasn’t that he didn’t _believe_ Calum, it was more like it was hard to do anything other than focus on how the darkness was pressing in on them from all sides in a building that did more to frighten than to impart comfort. They reached the second floor together, pushing open the door from the flight of stairs with a loud creak, and took in the new room they were standing in. It was sectioned off into smaller rooms, unlike the first floor, which was mostly open, and didn’t seem nearly as echo-y. There was that, at least.

Ashton caught sight of Calum grinning widely, probably because there were countless nooks and crannies to explore on this floor. Before Calum could even think to suggest it, Ashton spoke. “Let’s not split up.”

“Are you kidding?” Calum replied immediately. “If we split up I know you’re gonna run straight back to the hotel and send Dave after me.” He smirked, and Ashton snickered, knowing there was at least a grain of truth to that statement.

“Ok. I’ll be right behind you,” Ashton said, falling into step behind Calum as they made their way down a hallway. Many of the rooms appeared to be offices or conference rooms, with large plate glass windows that made it easy to see that every single one of them was empty of even furniture.

At the end of the corridor, they reached an open space. There was a circular patch of carpet that looked as though a table might have been there, ages ago, especially because directly above it was what clearly had once been a light fixture; wires were sticking out of a hole in the ceiling.

“Shit,” Ashton said. Calum looked back at him, frowning; he didn’t see anything that could have warranted such a reaction, until he saw that Ashton wasn’t looking at the side of the room they were in. He was looking opposite where they were standing, at a small alcove between a wall and another door, leading to the stairs on this side of the building.

It was a bundle of blankets and what looked like a dirty old pillow, with food wrappers and water bottles jumbled up in it. Ashton chewed his lip as Calum looked over at him.

“There’s no one there,” Calum said, but Ashton shook his head; he wasn’t sure if he didn’t believe it or what, but it was still unsettling to see what clearly used to be someone’s living space.

“Look,” Ashton said, twitching his light a bit to the side, pointing at a metal garbage pan, the beige paint (or maybe white paint gone off) blackened above it.

“Probably made a fire in that,” Calum said, stepping closer. Again, Ashton resisted the urge to pull him back.

“Let’s keep going,” Calum continued, and Ashton sighed heavily. “What?” Calum asked. “We’ve hardly seen anything.”

“Whoever’s stuff this is could still be around,” Ashton said, and it was more of an excuse than an actual reason to leave.

“If they were, don’t you think they’d have said something by now? Like, ‘Hey you asshole kids, get out of here.’” Calum paused for effect, like if there was anyone around, they could have used that as their opportunity to speak. “We’re alone, Ash. It’s fine.”

Ashton only pursed his lips and swept the light over the blankets again; logically, he knew that Calum was right. The blankets were balled up much too small for a person to be hidden in them, and everything looked far too old for anyone to have been staying here recently. Still, it was just so _creepy_.

“Next floor?” Calum asked, and Ashton chewed his lip before nodding. This boy was going to be the death of him—just...hopefully not tonight.

“Yeah, all right,” Ashton agreed, and stepped carefully behind Calum as they rounded the pillow to open the door. It took a few seconds for Calum to get the door to budge, and Ashton had a very real moment where he thought maybe someone was holding it from the other side, keeping them trapped there, but then finally it opened, a sharp metal screech sounding in the building. Ashton winced at the sound, and angled his phone up at the hinge at the top of the door. It was rusty, he could see, with dust falling off of it the further that Calum pulled it open.

“Let’s go,” Ashton rushed him, ushering him forth, and this time their positions were switched, with Calum in front, walking upstairs first, Ashton close behind him. The door’s rusted hinge kept it open below them. Ashton turned around twice to check and make sure no one was looking up at them through the door, stopping the second time about two-thirds of the way up the flight.

“You need to chill,” Calum said from behind Ashton, who was still studying the lower door intently, like if he looked long enough, someone would actually appear. “There’s no one else here. It’s like, 4:30 in the morning. Everyone else in the whole country is asleep.”

Ashton looked up at Calum, who had one hand on the door out of the stairwell, and just sighed, for what he felt must have been the fiftieth time since Calum woke him up earlier. “Fine, sorry. Let’s go.” He continued up the stairs toward Calum, who hadn’t moved. Ashton stepped onto the landing, practically chest-to-chest with him, holding his phone a bit out to the side so they wouldn’t be blinded by the bright light, but so they could see each other. “What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Calum said, leaning in to close the distance between them, his lips brushing over Ashton’s. Ashton could feel Calum smiling against his lips, and honestly, the kiss did make him feel just a bit better. He leaned into Calum, eyes slipping shut as he kissed back.

A scraping sound made Ashton pull away and open his eyes, looking for the cause of the noise, until he realized that Calum had pushed the door open.

“Dick,” Ashton said, laughing a little, and Calum joined in.

“I just needed to distract you a little,” he said, and Ashton wasn’t able to miss the smirk cutting his mouth, the apples of his cheeks rounding as he smiled

“It worked,” Ashton admitted. “Go on.”

Calum stepped out into the room, Ashton slipping in behind him. This time, he caught the door before it slammed, letting it close gently behind them. Calum was already a few steps away by the time Ashton moved away from it, their beams of light in different directions. This floor was more similar to the first than the second—it had a large open area with some small cubicles off along the walls, and the windows were still boarded up.

“Look at all this,” Calum said, and Ashton walked past a few cubicles to see what Calum was referring to. The entire wall, boards and all, was covered in graffiti.

“Damn,” Ashton said, both of them moving their flashlights so they could look at sections of the wall together. It had to have been countless artists coming in, painting and drawing and layering over each other’s work until the entire open wall area was covered in a mishmash of designs, one melding into the next, neverending, an ocean of art where each piece was indiscernible from the next.

“This is crazy,” Calum said, both of them moving slowly, gradually, along the space. The further along they went, the less it seemed like a competition between artists and more of a collaboration; it was like it went from being a warzone, clashing colors and styles, to something like a symphony, sweeping lines mixed with broad expanses of color. What started out as artists competing for space, painting their names over others, turned into harmony. It was chaotic and beautiful at the same time.

“Right?” Ashton said, absently agreeing, thinking about all the times he’d seen graffiti around in all the cities they’d been to; he’d never seen anything like this before, and he didn’t really want to look away.

“Oh, no,” Calum said, voice much more dejected than it had been a moment ago.

“What?” Ashton asked, looking away from the wall to where Calum was pointing his flashlight. His face fell too, when he saw it: A lump of beige-orange fur, tucked away against a radiator, unmoving.

“Is that an animal?” Ashton asked, frowning.

“I think it’s a cat,” Calum said, stepping a little closer.

“Is it dead?” came Ashton’s next question, still keeping his distance.

“Looks like,” Calum said, moving closer still.

“What are you doing?” Ashton half-asked, half-demanded.

“I don’t want to just leave it here,” he answered.

“You can’t touch it,” Ashton said. “It’s—I mean, who knows how long it’s been here?” He took a few steps to catch up with Calum, wrapping one hand around his wrist—but the sudden movement was enough to prove that the cat _wasn’t_ dead, because it yowled and hissed at them, fur standing on end.

Ashton’s hand tightened around Calum’s wrist and he let out a shriek that he wasn’t proud of in the least. As the cat stood its ground, its tail thickened and its yellow eyes flashed in the light from their phones. Ashton looked over at Calum, who looked startled as well, but was smiling— _laughing_ , actually. Calum was laughing and the cat, who apparently no longer deemed them a threat, hissed at them one final time and then hopped gracefully away from them, rushing to a more secluded spot; it rounded a corner and was gone.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Calum said, voice tight from laughter. “Holy shit, you—” he couldn’t continue, he was so overwhelmed by how funny he found the entire situation.

Ashton, on the other hand, wasn’t even sure if he could feel offended right then—his heart was pounding in his chest and in his ears, even almost drowning out Calum’s gleeful peals.

“Shut up,” he mumbled, trying to steady his breathing, because if he slowed that down maybe his heart rate would follow.

“I can’t,” Calum wheezed. “Oh my god, I thought you were actually going to drop dead,” he managed, pulling his wrist out of Ashton’s tight grasp and lifting his hand to wipe at his eyes, the flashlight aimed at the floor.

“I was just startled,” Ashton said, trying to explain his utterly ridiculous reaction. “You would have been too.”

“Yeah, I _was_ startled,” Calum said, “but I didn’t scream like a little baby.” He couldn’t stop the residual giggles from bubbling up, and before he knew it, Ashton was walking away.

“Ash!” Calum called after him, but it was too late; Ashton had made his way over to the door maybe fifteen feet away, the next stairwell, and had disappeared through it.

“Ashton,” Calum repeated, even as the door slammed shut. He sighed and added, to himself, “Definitely not the way out, anyway.” He rolled his eyes and held his phone up in front of him, crossing over to the stairway door and pulling it open. There was graffiti on the walls here, too, though it was much less friendly-looking and a lot more demonic, or at the very least hostile. There were pentagrams drawn all over, with upside down crosses, in a deep red color that Calum felt absolutely certain was supposed to look like blood. He snickered at the things people did to frighten others, then shook his head and continued up the stairs to the fourth floor of the building.

When he reached the landing, he saw that the door at the top of the stairs had been left open, just an inch or so, so he pushed on it. He was expecting to find Ashton waiting for him—given the situation, he actually was expecting Ashton to jump out at him to scare him, but that didn’t happen.

The floor appeared deserted—or at least, what Calum could see of it did. The fourth floor had no windows boarded up, and he could tell just by looking that the streetlights barely reached this high, but the sun was coming up now, just a little. He walked over to the nearest window, which was actually missing the glass itself, and looked out. It was hard to tell, but the sky seemed to have faded from black to the deepest blue, the floodlights still trained on the front of the building making it hard to see anything other than orange light.

Calum turned away from the window, again expecting to see Ashton behind him, but still nothing. He took a few, cautious steps, taking a low, deep breath, trying not to let Ashton’s worry that they weren’t alone get to him. He wasn’t going to panic. Ashton was just fucking with him—he was fine.

He walked past the row of cubicles, ignoring the offices with their closed doors across from him, and peeked into each cube with his flashlight at the ready. Each one was empty. He reached the last one, really expecting Ashton to be in it, but he wasn’t. He hadn’t been in any of the cubicles, so that left the offices. Calum turned, letting his phone wash over the expanse of the room but still, he didn’t see Ashton.

Absolutely refusing to consider that anything untoward had happened, Calum strode confidently across the room, his phone expelling the bright light out ahead of him, and he turned the handle of the first office door, pushing it with all his strength—but it was locked. He swore, loudly, because now, when he was beginning to seriously worry, he finds a fucking locked door? What are the shitting odds of that happening?

He looked over his shoulder, the windows letting in some of the light now that his eyes had adjusted a bit, so at least it wasn’t pitch black anymore. Not like he could really see much, but still. It was better than no light at all like on the last three floors.

Calum walked slowly, quietly, over to the next office, and pushed open the door so hard it banged into the wall, ready to have Ashton leap out at him, but it was empty save for a desk that appeared attached to the wall. The window was broken, jagged glass sticking up from the sill, but Calum just sighed. Ashton wasn’t in there.

He looked around the main room again, moving his phone around so light splashed over all the open space, but he still didn’t see anything out of place. He looked over to his right, at the remaining office doors; there were three, and he knew Ashton would be in one of them. He had to be. Calum wouldn’t accept any other explanation.

Ashton was hiding, and he was going to scare Calum, and Calum would accept it as punishment for teasing Ashton and for making him come out so late in the first place, and then they’d leave this stupid building and go back to the hotel and get some much-needed rest.

Crossing to the third office door, he pushed it open and finally saw Ashton. There was a desk in this office too, made of a pale, light-colored wood, but the difference was that there was a desk chair behind it, facing away from the door. It had a low back, but Calum could tell Ashton was sitting low in it, leaning down far to try and hide his presence—and it might have worked, except for how the top of his hood was visible over the back of the chair. Calum smirked. That was clever. He’d nearly tricked him.

“Nice one, Ash,” Calum said, but the figure in the chair didn’t move. Only the very top of his head was visible, the black fabric of the hoodie looking a bit grey in the flashlight beam.

“Ash,” Calum said again, forcing himself not to sound scared.

Still no movement, no response.

“Ashton.” This time, he sounded stern, like he wanted Ash to think he was mad instead of legitimately concerned.

He took a step forward, just as he felt two hands clamp onto his waist and a voice viciously say “ _Boo_ ” right into his ear, and Calum let out a bloodcurdling scream and dropped his phone. It clattered to the ground as he turned around to do anything necessary to get rid of his attacker...only to see the laughing face of Ashton, illuminated from below by own phone, tucked between his cheek and his shoulder. The angle of the light threw his dimples into even further distress, making them the focal point of his smile, and Calum couldn’t even appreciate his perfect, stupid face because he was fairly sure he was teetering on the edge of cardiac arrest.

“Oh my god!” Calum yelled over Ashton’s laughter, hitting him on the shoulder so hard he actually backed up a step. “You fucking prick!”

Ashton couldn’t even speak for laughing, but he did crouch down to pick up Calum’s phone for him, offering it. Calum snatched it from his hand and leaned on the desk behind him, needing the support because he was so terrified he really did need to sit down for a minute.

“I can’t fucking believe you,” Calum said, one hand on his chest as he felt his heart thumping away, fear and adrenaline coursing through his body—he could feel his hand shaking through his shirt.

“You need to chill,” Ashton said, repeating Calum’s words from earlier, stepping into the office and pushing the door closed behind him. The sun had risen a bit more, soft blue light pouring in through the window behind Calum, silhouetting the boy’s form, but his features were still visible up close.

“You’re a fucking asshole,” Calum said, turning off the flashlight on his phone and putting it down on the desk. “What the fuck is in the chair?” he asked, pushing himself up to sit on the dusty surface and looking over his shoulder at it.

“Oh,” Ashton said, snickering a little as he rounded the desk. “A lamp.” He swiveled the chair, turning it so Calum could see; it was a desk lamp, its bendable neck fully extended upward, the hood of his jacket draped over it.

“You were an evil mastermind this whole time,” Calum said, laughing a little, his body beginning to feel normal again now, now that he could see with his own eyes that Ashton was perfectly fine. “I can’t believe it.”

Ashton grinned a little and shrugged, then hopped up on the desk beside Calum. Outside, the sky had grown even lighter, almost enough for them to see each other without the light from Ashton’s phone.

“Believe it,” Ashton said, nudging Calum’s arm with his own, turning to smile at him.

“Fucking prick,” Calum said, but he looked at Ashton with affection anyway.

“Yeah, but I’m _your_ fucking prick.”

“Oh my god, fuck off,” Calum said, laughing as Ashton made a kissy face and leaned toward him. Calum pushed him away, leaning the opposite direction.

“Come on, let me make it up to you,” Ashton said, reaching for Calum and hooking an arm around his shoulder, pulling him back, turning a little so Calum’s arm was against his front, trying to kiss any part of him he could reach. He had to settle for his ear and temple, but it was better than nothing.

“I really should let you, shouldn’t I?” Calum said, melting a little under Ashton’s touch, wanting the contact.

“Yes,” Ashton mumbled firmly, moving his kisses down as Calum allowed him to get closer, trailing his lips over his jaw and neck as his hands scrabbled against Calum’s front, pulling his shirt up and trying to undo his jeans.

Calum let him, leaning back a little and spreading his legs as Ashton popped the button and tugged the zipper down. He slid off the desk and took a step to the side to face Calum, who shimmied a little out of his jeans while Ashton pulled on the denim, lowering them just a little around his thighs.

Ashton slipped one hand inside of Calum’s jeans, over the soft fabric of his boxer-briefs, and cupped his dick as he met Calum’s lips again in a kiss. Calum returned it, eyes slipping shut and lifting his arms to wrap around Ashton’s neck and shoulders, holding him close as Ashton slowly played with his cock, fingertips dragging along the length.

Their lips parted against each other and Ashton’s tongue moved over Calum’s lower lip before licking into his mouth, against Calum’s tongue, both of them mingling and pressing together as the sound of their breathing filled the otherwise silent room. Between his legs, Calum could feel Ashton’s hand trying to get a better grip on him, but the angle was strange and too much for his wrist. It didn’t bother him—he was perfectly content with just kissing Ashton for the time being.

A low hum filled the room, emanating from Ashton’s throat, as Calum pulled barely a fraction away from him and sucked on his tongue, his own fingertips digging into Ashton’s back as they kissed. They were so close together, so wrapped up in each other, that nothing else could have gotten their attention. Ashton’s palm dragged over Calum’s dick and his leg twitched a little, a soft moan dropping from his lips and falling between them. Ashton only pushed closer to him, even though his wrist was bent uncomfortably, just to make Calum make more of those noises.

Calum’s hands descended from Ashton’s shoulders to his lower back, his legs spread wide so Ashton’s hips could fit between his thighs, and finally Ashton retracted his hand. Instead of touching Calum’s dick, he stepped as close as he could to the desk and slipped both of his hands around Calum, beneath his ass, holding Calum flush against him so he could grind his semi against Ashton’s jeans, the rough denim providing friction that would probably be better for him than his hand.

“Fuck,” Calum whined, rutting his hips up against Ashton’s. He could tell that Ashton’s dick was getting hard too, just a little, as his sensitive skin pressed against the bulge he assumed was Ashton, though admittedly it was hard to tell through his jeans.

“I know,” Ashton muttered, mouthing at Calum’s ear again, his cheek and neck. Calum ground his hips forward against Ashton’s, his cock chubbing up even more, beginning to need something other than Ashton’s open-mouthed kisses against his heated skin and his denim-covered dick against his own.

“Ash—” Calum choked out, and before he could even ask for anything else, Ashton had pulled away from him entirely. Calum wobbled a little on the edge of the desk, finally leaning back and bracing himself not to fall, his ass hanging half off the surface, thighs still spread from where Ashton had been standing not a moment ago.

It had brightened in the room considerably, so Calum could see Ashton had dropped to his knees, but he still gasped loudly when he felt Ashton’s tongue moving over him, through his underwear, dragging slow and wet over his cock. “ _Ash_ ,” he said again, head thrown back as Ashton worked between his legs. His hands were working on pulling Calum’s jeans down further—easier now that he was half off of the desk anyway—and once his thighs were exposed, Ashton’s fingers pressed into his flesh and pushed his legs open even wider as he doubled his efforts with his mouth.

He closed his lips around the wet fabric and _sucked_ , the sensation strange but still _absolutely brilliant_ in Calum’s opinion, and he moaned loudly as Ashton did it again and again, working slowly along his length until he reached the head—he could tell by the slight ridge he felt against his tongue. But even if he hadn’t felt it, Calum’s reaction would have been telling—he bucked his hips forward and moaned.

Lifting his hands from Calum’s legs, which quivered a little, Ashton reached up to pull down the waistband of Calum’s underwear this time, just enough to get his cock and balls out. Calum sighed softly, looking down his body at Ashton below him, and he moaned wantonly as Ashton took the head of his dick into his mouth, sucking on the tip as he again put his hands to good use. His right was gently, quickly, teasing the shaft of his cock, squeezing it softly and lapping away Calum’s precome as it seeped out; his left was resting on the front of his hip, between his thigh and his balls, thumb gently rubbing over the skin.

“Ash,” Calum breathed, his hips jerking forward, but slowly, like he was holding himself back.

“Mmm,” Ashton hummed around him, not really intending to answer the question but wanting to make sure that Calum knew how good Ash thought he tasted, how good it felt to have his heavy, leaking dick in his mouth. Calum’s head rolled back again, Ashton saw, looking up at him through his eyelashes and the hair that had fallen in front of his eyes.

“Ashton,” Calum tried again, his head still lolled backward, but needing Ashton to stop, _now_ , or he was going to come, and he didn’t want to. Not yet.

Ashton sat back on his knees, looking up at Calum, who had regained enough composure to meet his eyes. The window behind him showed that the sky had faded to a pretty blue with some tinges of pink and purple still visible. The sun must have finally breached the horizon.

“Hold on,” Calum said, breathless, and Ashton watched in the slowly-brightening light as Calum reached a shaky hand into one of his jacket pockets and pulled out a small bottle. He held it up to Ashton between his thumb and forefinger, and grinned wide.

“Seriously?” Ashton asked, deadpan, moving his hand from Calum’s balls to wipe his mouth with the back of his wrist. “You brought lube on a walk to an abandoned building?”

“Never know when you might need it,” Calum replied, smirking. He flicked the cap open before closing it again with a _click_.

“Literally what other situation could you possibly need lube for other than sex, Calum?”

“So maybe I hoped I’d get lucky,” he said, shifting himself back a little onto the desk. “I usually do with you.” He gestured toward Ashton, on his knees on the floor before him, lips wet from sucking dick.

Ashton scoffed, trying to make some noise of indignation, but he couldn’t even deny it—He knew how quick he’d gone for Calum’s dick. Not that it mattered—now that it was getting light outside, Ashton was feeling a bit bolder. So maybe they were going to fuck in an abandoned building. They’d done it in weird places before, so this was just another stop on the weird journey that was life on tour.

“Fine,” Ashton said, standing up again. He bit his lip as Calum shrugged off his jacket and placed it on the desk beside him, then leaned in for a kiss.

“Bend over the desk,” Calum whispered against his lips, sliding off the desk after they broke apart. “I’ll prep you.”

Ashton nodded, ready to do what Calum asked, but before he could, he surged forward again, kissing his lips in thanks. The two of them didn’t switch very often, but Ashton loved when Calum would fuck him, feeling him deep, Calum’s larger frame covering his body and encompassing all of his senses, every single one. Taking a deep breath at the thought of it, he tugged his t-shirt up over his waist and undid his jeans, pushing them down over his ass to rest around his thighs, his underwear bunched up as well. He opted to rest on his arms, pulling Calum’s jacket over and snatching his hoodie off of the chair, arranging them below him just so he’d have something soft for the points of his elbows to dig into.

Behind him, Calum licked his lip, placing the lube down beside Ashton’s hip, and moved his hands to either of Ashton’s ass cheeks, spreading him apart. Ashton whimpered softly—Calum’s hands were a little cold, but he’d get used to that soon enough. There was a short pause, and then Ashton groaned, loudly—Calum had fit his cock in between his cheeks, moving slowly against him, his saliva-slick skin moving against his ass, the drag over his hole making Ashton want Calum inside of him even now, with no prep.

“Oh, fuck _you_ ," Ashton mumbled, lowering his head so he could hide his face in his hands, muffling his voice even further.

Instead of replying, Calum just gave his hips one more push forward, before pulling back. He reached for the lube again with his left hand, using his right to take hold of his cock. He tapped the head of his dick against Ashton’s hole a few times, smirking at the sharp inhalation of breath from the boy below him, then actually got serious and stopped teasing him.

Coating two of his fingers with lube, Calum used the heels of his hands to adjust Ashton’s position just a little; he wanted to touch his cock while he opened him up.

“Ok?” he asked, meaning the position.

“Yeah,” Ashton said, and opened his legs as wide as he could with the tight circle of denim holding his thighs mostly in place.

“Ok,” Calum affirmed, stepping back and looking down at Ashton’s back in front of him, his pale skin practically glowing in the light pouring in from the window now. He placed his left hand on Ashton’s hip, trailing the lubed-up fingers of his right down between his cheeks, and felt Ashton’s hole clench against his fingertips as he touched it, softly.

Ashton sighed quietly, sticking his ass further out toward Calum, who circled his hole with one finger, gently working it against him until he felt sure that Ashton would be comfortable taking it fully.

Changing the angle of his wrist, he slid his finger into Ashton, feeling him stretch open the further he moved in, and Ashton breathed Calum’s name out, low, low enough that Calum almost didn’t hear it, but the fact that he did made him smile a little to himself.

Gently working his finger in and out of Ashton, he lowered his other hand from his hip and took hold of his cock. Ashton moaned above him, voice still a bit muted, as Calum worked his hand up from the base to the tip. Ashton took a shuddering breath when, instead of moving his hand down his length, Calum let go of him and moved his hand back to the base of his cock, wrapping his fingers around him tight and dragging his palm toward the head again.

Ashton’s entire body jerked forward into Calum’s hand, his finger slipping out of his hole just a little, and Calum couldn’t help but giggle at him.

“I guess you like that,” he said, repeating the action for a third time, and this time when he reached the head, he could feel how wet the tip was, precome coating practically his entire palm when he pulled his hand away.

“Yeah,” Ashton said, shivering a little as Calum did it again, partly from the friction on his dick but mostly because he was teasing entrance with his middle finger, the tip nudging against his asshole, working its way slowly inside of him. When it finally moved beside Calum’s forefinger, Ashton groaned, pushing back into his hand to try and get them deeper. He wanted the stretch and the burn of feeling full, wanted Calum inside of him, wanted to come on Calum’s cock alone.

As soon as the thought came into his mind, he reached down and grabbed Calum’s wrist, stopping his movements. “Wanna come without you touching me,” Ashton whispered, admitting it like it was a secret, but Calum immediately moved his hand away, wanting that too, _badly_.

“Yeah,” he said, absently, crooking his two fingers inside of Ashton and searching for his prostate; he would already be sensitive, since Calum didn’t fuck him very often, but it wouldn’t hurt to prep him just a bit, get him worked up so that the hard ridge of Calum’s dick could move back and forth over his prostate as he moved in and out of him, hopefully giving him enough to come untouched. The thought alone made Calum whine in desperation and want.

“Do three,” Ashton was saying beneath him, pushing back with his ass, lifting himself onto his tiptoes and flexing his hips to present himself to Calum, wanting more and incredibly impatient about it.

“Hold on,” Calum said, picking up the bottle of lube again, slicking up his ring finger. He didn’t think Ashton could take three yet, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t get him ready for it—he scissored his fore- and middle fingers apart, opening his hole up further. Ashton took a deep breath—Calum could see his ribs expanding as he did—and Calum did it again, moving his fingers away from each other and stretching Ashton’s tight asshole around them.

Ashton’s fingers curled into fists that he rested his forehead on, eyes closed and mouth panting as Calum worked him open gradually, finally slipping his third finger in beside the other two.

“Fuck,” Ashton said, “fuck yes.” He was halfway there already, his cock hard and leaking precome between his legs, his length bobbing up and down every time Calum’s fingers brushed over his prostate, and after another few thrusts of Calum’s fingers into his body, he pulled them out. They slipped from him easily, a small, wet noise sounding as they did. Calum quickly smoothed some lube over his length, and he hadn’t even been gone for long before Ashton felt the head of his cock against him again.

This time, he angled the head of his cock against him, and after a moment of pressure, it popped inside of Ashton, the head stretching him a bit further than even three of Calum’s fingers, but Ashton squeezed down on Calum’s cock, feeling the stretch, and his cock gave an almighty throb as he did.

Calum hissed behind him, lips baring his clenched teeth at how tight Ashton was, and without waiting any longer, he slowly rolled his hips forward, pressing his cock into him inch by excruciating inch. Ashton felt hot and tight around him, hotter and tighter than Calum could remember him feeling last time they did this, and when the arch of his dick moved over Ashton’s prostate, he tightened up even further, ass clenching.

“That was it,” Ashton groaned, as he felt a glob of precome drip from the slit in his dick. Calum had to resist the urge to touch him, instead putting one hand on his hip, the other flat on his lower back. He fucked him shallowly, hardly moving before he was already almost there, just needing Ashton around him to come, and he wanted to keep his dick working over Ashton’s prostate if he could, getting him to his orgasm without laying a hand on his cock again.

“You good?” Calum asked, needing confirmation from Ashton that he was moving into him right, that this could get him off. Ashton nodded, perfectly visible in the sunlight streaming in through the window now, so Calum continued what he was doing, pulling out of Ashton just a bit before pushing back into him, able to tell his cock was working against his prostate every time by the noises Ashton was making: fucked out and desperate and _loud_.

Ashton was whining, his jaw clenched as he felt his cock twitch, wanting friction even though he _didn’t_ ; the air felt cool on the wet tip as he dripped precome down between his legs. He felt Calum’s hand tighten on his hip, his palm push down on his spine, and the only warning he received that Calum was about to spill was a whimper and an “Ash, I’m—” before Calum came, hot and thick inside him. Ashton thought he could feel it, feel Calum’s come in his ass, and he groaned loudly as the extra slipperiness made him push in a bit further, made Calum’s cock brush against his prostate for a long moment—time stretched as Ashton’s body seemed to align all of its molecules up just to explode outward, his cock quivering as he came, his semen landing on his stomach, his legs, the underwear down between his thighs.

Expletives and the other’s name were all the two of them could say until finally, Calum took a breath and straightened himself up, pulling his cock slowly out of Ashton, some of his come dribbling out afterward.

“You’re a mess,” Calum mumbled, but it was said with fondness, and he reached down to tug Ashton’s underwear and jeans up anyway, helping him out. Ashton pushed himself up from his elbows so his palms were resting against the jackets below him, one hand curled around his hoodie, the other on Calum’s jacket.

“Your fault,” Ashton replied, looking over his shoulder at Calum, who didn’t notice right away; he was busy pulling his own pants up. After a moment, he seemed to realize he was being watched; he smiled, suddenly shy, and pressed his front against Ashton’s back, kissing him on the lips as he pulled Ashton’s pants up the rest of the way.

They straightened themselves up in silence, adjusting clothes and slipping jackets back on, the sun properly up now, though probably not entirely yet,

“What time is it?” Calum asked, and Ashton picked Calum’s phone up from the desk and checked the time.

“Half past 5,” Ashton said, laughing. They’d been gone for _so long_ and no one had any idea. It was strangely liberating.

“Worth it?” Calum asked, as Ashton handed his phone to him and turned around, facing him.

Ashton pretended to consider the question, earning himself another slap on the shoulder from Calum before he just dissolved into giggles. “Yeah, worth it.”

Their lips met again for a brief moment, before Calum pulled away and opened the office door.

–

“What time are we supposed to be ready to leave?” Ashton asked, leaving a trail of clothes on the floor of the hotel room—he’d begun stripping as soon as the door had swung shut behind them.

“I think 10,” Calum said, though he wasn’t actually sure. It might have been 11. Or 9.

“10’s good. That’s so far from now,” Ashton said, leaving his underwear on, and climbed back into his bed. He shivered at the coldness of the sheets.

“It is so far,” Calum said, stripped down to just his underwear too, and instead of moving onto his own bed, he rounded Ashtons, adjusted the curtains to be sure no sunlight could breach them even though they were already drawn closed, and then flopped down beside Ashton.

The two of them moved together as though attracted by gravity or magnetism; their bodies fit into each other’s perfectly and Calum tucked his head below Ashton’s chin, his nose resting against his chest. Ashton draped an arm over Calum’s side, thumb gently rubbing his back; he knew it helped Calum relax, kept his breathing steady. Ashton’s thumb gradually slowed to stopping as both of them drifted to sleep, maybe to dream of something half as interesting as what they’d found earlier that night, before being woken up far too soon to leave for the next city.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: [maybeillfindyouhere](http://maybeillfindyouhere.tumblr.com) • Come say hi!
> 
> _Title from "Roman Holiday" by Halsey._


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